A Man of Letters
by 96 Hubbles
Summary: Reid hears from Gideon and writes a letter in response.


**A Man of Letters**

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Dear Gideon,

Thank you for your letter. It was good to hear from you after all this time and I'm happy to know that you seem to have found some peace, if not the belief in happy endings you were searching for.

About your letter - your apology was welcome, but not really necessary. Garcia told me she had a few choice words for you when she found you, but I hope enforced guilt wasn't want prompted you to ask my forgiveness. Truthfully, the team has always been much more angry on my behalf than I myself ever was.

Yes, I was hurt when you left. I felt rejected, I supposed, that you could leave us all so easily, and even a bit foolish, wondering if perhaps it hadn't been merely my own neediness causing me to believe we were closer than we were. And yes, there were some unfortunate parallels between your leaving and my experience with my father, leading me to feel betrayed and abandoned, not to mention the timing of your departure while I was already struggling made everything hit home harder than it might have, but mostly I just missed you. You robbed me of a friend by taking yourself away.

But, as time went on, I realized I was being selfish. As my childish hurt receded, I reflected that I had not been there for _you_. Self-absorbed with my own problems, I didn't see your pain, or how hard Sarah's death must have struck you, or even just how exhausted you truly were. I'm older now, however, and while at the moment I still can't picture doing anything else with my life, that sort of shattered, incurable mental and emotional fatigue is much more within my imaginative scope. Your departure was sharp and painful, but if your state of mind was half what I think it was, it is very easy to see your actions as being necessary for the sake of your own well-being. And likely it was better for us as well; better a clean break than putting the team at risk by trying to push an exhausted member beyond his limits. I'm not saying what happened was ideal, but whether or not your actions were selfish, or your method callous, it was still what was needed. Survival is by its nature a selfish thing, but that doesn't mean it's necessarily wrong. You burning out would have served no one, and might have pushed you irretrievably towards a darker end.

As for the method, well first off, don't berate yourself for leaving a letter instead of saying good-bye in person. I know why you avoided us, and - in a similar state of mind - I very well might have done the same thing. I know Morgan seems to think you left without saying goodbye, but I've always found this confusing: your letter _was_ your goodbye. I did wish I could have gotten to say my own goodbye to you, but on the other hand, in-person goodbyes are overrated, at least in my mind. My father said goodbye in person, and that was _ALL_ he said. One word, "goodbye", with neither apology nor explanation. He didn't even bother to answer my mother when she asked him to take me with him. What good was his farewell then?

Therefore, after some time had passed and I could consider your leaving clearly, I began to see your letter in a different light. I felt touched that you had taken the time to try and explain your reasons. We could argue all day about whether you could have left in a better way, but at least you tried to say goodbye. The fact that you made the attempt at all when you were no doubt in a great deal of turmoil showed your respect for me, and even your affection.

Besides, I've always been partial to letters; I still write my mother one a day.

As for my father, please don't compare yourself to him. While I've had contact with him once since you left and I no longer feel the same anger towards him that I did before, I still can't bring myself to forgive him. He left his young son and his ill wife with no support, letting us struggle while he lived a mere nine miles away. You attempted to escape from a dark hole for the sake of your own sanity, and while by extension it meant you had to leave us, your only responsibility to at that point was to yourself. I was an adult with both financial resources and emotional support and you owed me nothing.

So I'll forgive you for leaving, Gideon, if you still need me to say it, but I don't see it as something that needs forgiving. Could you have handled it better? Possibly, but then so could we all have.

However, I will accept your apology for one thing, and that is for giving us no way of knowing you were all right. That's the only genuine grievance I think I have. I _worried _about you. You frightened me. When I drove to your cabin I thought you might have done something stupid. When I got there, I was glad to see you hadn't, but afterwards I was anxious for months that the letter might have been a ruse and you had simply gone somewhere where I wouldn't find you. And while part of me truly did understand why you did it this way, another part of me was, and is, furious at what you put me and the others through.

But now that we've heard from you (even if it was thanks to Garcia's initiative and not your own), even that I can likely forgive in time. It doesn't change what you did, but at least it's no longer the current situation. I'm glad to know you're well, Gideon, and would like to hear from you again, but if I don't, then at least I can tell you this: you were the first person besides my mother ever to reach out to me, or even simply give a damn about me, and for that I will always be grateful. Thank you.

Be happy, Jason, and have a good life.

Your friend,

Spencer Reid

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_So there you have it. No plot or anything, and maybe not my best writing (though it did turn out better than I thought it would), but it was something I wanted to write. I think Rossi is the warmer, more personable character, but at the same time I find Gideon gets a lot of flak in fanfic for how he left. Sure, it wasn't the best way to go about it, but let's remember the man was grief-stricken, desperate, wracked with guilt, burnt out and quite probably in the midst of a major depressive episode. Too, though he seemed to have more experience with social interaction than Reid, I always felt there was something of the introvert to Gideon, and the judged depth of an introvert's response often suffers in our extroverted culture. Besides, the idea of Reid staying angry does him a bit of disservice as well. Not to say it wouldn't be perfectly understandable - the heart rarely listens to reason, after all - but, given time, I think Reid would reason his way to forgiving Gideon. _

_But hey, I'm just as likely to make my next story an angst-ridden piece where Reid is still brokenhearted and angry and Gideon's the villain. That's the beauty of writing: as long as you make it plausible, ANY situation can be true!_


End file.
